Sinfonia da Vita, Op. 1
Friday, February 29, 2008
An article about casting choices for some of the most popular movies. It’s a double-edged sword, based on the decisions of both studio executives and artistes themselves. As you’re about to see, the tables can turn around – hardly can anybody trust to predict the future!
Star Misses: 10 Career-Changing Roles That Weren’t
By Lacey Rose, Forbes.com
Source:
http://omg.yahoo.com/star-misses-10-career-changing-roles-that-weren-t/news/7006?nc
Imagine “Pretty Woman” starring Molly Ringwald. Or “Raiders of the Lost Ark” with Tom Selleck as leading man. How about “The Graduate” with Robert Redford playing Benjamin Braddock -- instead of Dustin Hoffmann?
Those were studios’ early choices to fill now-legendary film roles. Hard to believe? Little wonder. “The essence of a good casting decision is that you simply take it for granted,” says Janet Hirshenson, a casting agent behind some of Hollywood’s biggest films, including “A Beautiful Mind,” “When Harry Met Sally,” and “A Few Good Men.”
The way she sees it, it’s only on the rare occasion that viewers try to imagine a different cast that they realize the impact of such decisions.
“I think that when it all comes together and it works, how could you imagine anybody else?” adds Jane Jenkins, Hirshenson’s casting partner and co-author of “A Star is Found: Our Adventures of Casting Some of Hollywood’s Biggest Movies.” “It only sticks out like a sore thumb when it doesn’t work, but usually those movies don’t do well enough for anybody to even notice.”
Try to consider the 1980s sitcom “Family Ties” without Michael J. Fox playing uber-Republican Alex P. Keaton. It seems almost impossible now, but the television studio only offered the now-iconic part to Fox after first-choice Matthew Broderick passed on the role.
At the time, the show’s producers felt Fox was simply too short for the gig. To make the point, NBC Entertainment Chief Brandon Tartikoff asked the show’s creator Gary David Goldberg if he could imagine Fox’s face on a lunchbox. Some years later, after “Back to the Future,” Fox’s face did find its way to lunchboxes -- and he was sure to send one to Tartikoff, with a note attached that reportedly read: “Dear Brandon, this is for you to put your crow on. Lots of Love, Michael J. Fox.” Rumor has it Tartikoff kept the lunchbox in his office for the rest of his NBC career.
Making the right casting call is crucial to financial success in entertainment, which is why a casting director (either employed by the studio or working on a freelance basis) as well as a director, producer, and studio executives weigh in on the decisions.
In an increasingly crowded entertainment universe, a film’s opening-weekend box office figures (or a TV show’s premiere ratings) have become a vital measure of a project’s success; that’s why casting directors often come up with the same lists of stars at the beginning of the process. After all, there’s only a select cadre that can not only secure funding, but also turn a profit. Of late, that group consists of a handful of names -- all of them male -- including Tom Hanks, Will Smith, Mel Gibson, and Matt Damon.
According to Hirshenson and Jenkins, actors typically pass on starring roles for two reasons: money and time. More specifically, they can’t get enough of the former or they don’t have enough of the latter. But other times, stars are simply uninterested -- or uncomfortable -- with the roles. And when you’re on the industry’s A-list, you’re allowed to be picky.
Take Mark Wahlberg, who has admitted to passing on “Brokeback Mountain.” “The Departed” actor told the press he turned down the opportunity because he was “a little creeped out” by the homosexual cowboy storyline and its subsequent sex scene.
Wise move? Probably not. The landmark film scored Heath Ledger an Oscar nod and generated $80 million -- as well as accolades -- at the box office.
Same goes for Anne Hathaway -- she was all set to play Alison Scott, an entertainment reporter whose one-night stand with a slacker leads to a surprise pregnancy in last summer’s comedy “Knocked Up,” but dropped out for creative reasons. Hathaway later told the press: “I turned down another movie because it was going to show a vagina -- not mine, but somebody else’s. And I didn’t believe that it was actually necessary to the story.”
The move worked out well for her replacement, “Grey’s Anatomy” star Katherine Heigl. The raunchy flick proved a smash hit at the box office, and the role catapulted the small-screen actress to big-screen stardom.
¶ 2/29/2008 08:36:00 pm 0 comments
Star Misses: 10 Career-Changing Roles That Weren’t
By Lacey Rose, Forbes.com
Source:
http://omg.yahoo.com/star-misses-10-career-changing-roles-that-weren-t/news/7006?nc
Imagine “Pretty Woman” starring Molly Ringwald. Or “Raiders of the Lost Ark” with Tom Selleck as leading man. How about “The Graduate” with Robert Redford playing Benjamin Braddock -- instead of Dustin Hoffmann?
Those were studios’ early choices to fill now-legendary film roles. Hard to believe? Little wonder. “The essence of a good casting decision is that you simply take it for granted,” says Janet Hirshenson, a casting agent behind some of Hollywood’s biggest films, including “A Beautiful Mind,” “When Harry Met Sally,” and “A Few Good Men.”
The way she sees it, it’s only on the rare occasion that viewers try to imagine a different cast that they realize the impact of such decisions.
“I think that when it all comes together and it works, how could you imagine anybody else?” adds Jane Jenkins, Hirshenson’s casting partner and co-author of “A Star is Found: Our Adventures of Casting Some of Hollywood’s Biggest Movies.” “It only sticks out like a sore thumb when it doesn’t work, but usually those movies don’t do well enough for anybody to even notice.”
Try to consider the 1980s sitcom “Family Ties” without Michael J. Fox playing uber-Republican Alex P. Keaton. It seems almost impossible now, but the television studio only offered the now-iconic part to Fox after first-choice Matthew Broderick passed on the role.
At the time, the show’s producers felt Fox was simply too short for the gig. To make the point, NBC Entertainment Chief Brandon Tartikoff asked the show’s creator Gary David Goldberg if he could imagine Fox’s face on a lunchbox. Some years later, after “Back to the Future,” Fox’s face did find its way to lunchboxes -- and he was sure to send one to Tartikoff, with a note attached that reportedly read: “Dear Brandon, this is for you to put your crow on. Lots of Love, Michael J. Fox.” Rumor has it Tartikoff kept the lunchbox in his office for the rest of his NBC career.
Making the right casting call is crucial to financial success in entertainment, which is why a casting director (either employed by the studio or working on a freelance basis) as well as a director, producer, and studio executives weigh in on the decisions.
In an increasingly crowded entertainment universe, a film’s opening-weekend box office figures (or a TV show’s premiere ratings) have become a vital measure of a project’s success; that’s why casting directors often come up with the same lists of stars at the beginning of the process. After all, there’s only a select cadre that can not only secure funding, but also turn a profit. Of late, that group consists of a handful of names -- all of them male -- including Tom Hanks, Will Smith, Mel Gibson, and Matt Damon.
According to Hirshenson and Jenkins, actors typically pass on starring roles for two reasons: money and time. More specifically, they can’t get enough of the former or they don’t have enough of the latter. But other times, stars are simply uninterested -- or uncomfortable -- with the roles. And when you’re on the industry’s A-list, you’re allowed to be picky.
Take Mark Wahlberg, who has admitted to passing on “Brokeback Mountain.” “The Departed” actor told the press he turned down the opportunity because he was “a little creeped out” by the homosexual cowboy storyline and its subsequent sex scene.
Wise move? Probably not. The landmark film scored Heath Ledger an Oscar nod and generated $80 million -- as well as accolades -- at the box office.
Same goes for Anne Hathaway -- she was all set to play Alison Scott, an entertainment reporter whose one-night stand with a slacker leads to a surprise pregnancy in last summer’s comedy “Knocked Up,” but dropped out for creative reasons. Hathaway later told the press: “I turned down another movie because it was going to show a vagina -- not mine, but somebody else’s. And I didn’t believe that it was actually necessary to the story.”
The move worked out well for her replacement, “Grey’s Anatomy” star Katherine Heigl. The raunchy flick proved a smash hit at the box office, and the role catapulted the small-screen actress to big-screen stardom.
Naturally 7 Live in Paris Subway ! Full Clip
¶ 2/29/2008 12:10:00 am 0 comments
Happen to spot this on Facebook... amazing how they break into acapella singing right in the middle of a busy subway! And interesting the door-closing chime fits harmoniously with their harmonies (pun unintended)
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Don’t you wish your grades could be read like that? (Don’t cha… don’t cha…)
F : FANTASTIC!
E- : Excellent
E : Erm… keep up the work, but could work harder…
D- : Decent
D : Doesn’t sound very good
C- : Crap
C : Cannot make it (but still not that bad)
C+ : Chui! (碎)
B- : Better do something about it…
B : Bad
B+ : Buang
A- : Alamak!
A : A-doi!
A+ : Armageddon (meaning gone case lah)
Explanation of terms:
Buang, chui: end, finished – although I can’t really tell which to what degree of deterioration each represents
* * *
Speaking about ‘Don’t cha’ I have a sudden shot through the brain: a realisation that there are repeated words in the choruses of the following two songs: Don’t Cha and Umbrella.
So here’s a take on a hybridised version – just the chorus, I have no ideas for the verses yet.
[To the chorus tune of Umbrella]
See how these two songs intertwine
Must have been twins the previous life
‘Don’t cha’ and ‘ella’ repeat again
The only two things to get stuck in your brain
Both of them filmed with sexy girls
Focus shifts away from words and to their curves
Really, ‘Umbrella’s’ got much, much better words
‘Don’t Cha’s’ lyrics simply are far more worse than worst
‘Don’t cha, don’t cha, don’t cha, don’t, don’t
Wish your girlfriend was hot like me
Don’t cha, don’t cha, don’t cha, don’t, don’t
¶ 2/28/2008 04:27:00 pm 0 comments
F : FANTASTIC!
E- : Excellent
E : Erm… keep up the work, but could work harder…
D- : Decent
D : Doesn’t sound very good
C- : Crap
C : Cannot make it (but still not that bad)
C+ : Chui! (碎)
B- : Better do something about it…
B : Bad
B+ : Buang
A- : Alamak!
A : A-doi!
A+ : Armageddon (meaning gone case lah)
Explanation of terms:
Buang, chui: end, finished – although I can’t really tell which to what degree of deterioration each represents
* * *
Speaking about ‘Don’t cha’ I have a sudden shot through the brain: a realisation that there are repeated words in the choruses of the following two songs: Don’t Cha and Umbrella.
So here’s a take on a hybridised version – just the chorus, I have no ideas for the verses yet.
[To the chorus tune of Umbrella]
See how these two songs intertwine
Must have been twins the previous life
‘Don’t cha’ and ‘ella’ repeat again
The only two things to get stuck in your brain
Both of them filmed with sexy girls
Focus shifts away from words and to their curves
Really, ‘Umbrella’s’ got much, much better words
‘Don’t Cha’s’ lyrics simply are far more worse than worst
‘Don’t cha, don’t cha, don’t cha, don’t, don’t
Wish your girlfriend was hot like me
Don’t cha, don’t cha, don’t cha, don’t, don’t
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Charice Pempengco Wows The World
¶ 2/27/2008 03:40:00 pm 0 comments
From a video Ah Chong sends me via Facebook
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Mark Gungor: Tale of Two Brains
¶ 2/26/2008 02:02:00 pm 0 comments
Quoted from the Youtube site: 'A humorous explanation of how male and female brains are different by Mark Gungor.'
I see this on Facebook from Wai Hong with the comment 'You know, truth can be funny'. So I click on this and here's a comedian poking fun of both men and women as to how their respective behaviours are at complete odds with one another - men's brain made up of 'boxes' and women's 'with wires anywhere'. Facts aside, this guy just hams it up with his presentation.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Oshiri Kajiri Mushi: The 'Butt-Biting Bug!'
¶ 2/24/2008 12:40:00 am 0 comments
This is a really cute piece of music. The conductor is damn sporting! Watch out for the surprises in this piece.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
From my friend's Facebook:
Young Women Top Unpaid Work List
Women without children are most likely to do unpaid overtime, says a report by the Trades Union Congress (TUC).
Source: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/business/7258390.stm
Women without children are most likely to do unpaid overtime, says a report by the Trades Union Congress (TUC).
They are more likely to work extra hours than mothers, fathers and men without children, according to the union organisation.
However, it is men with children who put in the highest number of unpaid hours - 8.3 hours per week on average.
The TUC says five million workers in the UK do unpaid overtime, saving employers almost £25bn in 2007.
The report indicates that 24.2% of women without children do unpaid overtime - the highest number of any other group.
But this declines to 17% amongst women with children.
'Impossible choices'
The Fawcett Society, which campaigns for equal pay and conditions, said women were being presented with "impossible choices".
"They are forced to choose between caring for a family at home or maximising their career opportunities in a workplace that measures performance by the number of hours put in," the society's Kat Banyard said.
The TUC's general secretary, Brendan Barber, said this was preventing women getting the top jobs in their profession.
"It is hardly surprising that the senior levels of most organisations are male and that the gender pay gap stubbornly persists," he said.
Fathers' hours
Whereas women without children are more likely than men to work extra hours without pay, those men who do overtime do a higher number of hours unpaid.
And it is men with children who do the greatest number of unpaid hours, more than eight per week on average.
"On average, fathers who put in unpaid overtime are doing almost an extra day a week. This can't be good for them, their children or wider society," Mr Barber said.
Teachers do the most unpaid work, an average of 11.2 hours per week. This is valued at more than £12,000 a year.
Workers in the legal, financial and media industries are also expected to work long hours without pay.
The TUC is urging employees to take proper breaks and says bosses should thank their staff by taking them to lunch.
The employers' organisation the CBI said it could be necessary for staff to work longer hours.
"Professional staff tend to work the longest hours and this is reflected in the more generous salaries they earn," a spokesperson said.
"Hourly workers who put in long shifts get paid overtime and often welcome the extra money in their pay packets," he said.
The TUC's research was carried out using official Office for National Statistics figures.
¶ 2/23/2008 12:49:00 am 0 comments
Women without children are most likely to do unpaid overtime, says a report by the Trades Union Congress (TUC).
Source: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/business/7258390.stm
Women without children are most likely to do unpaid overtime, says a report by the Trades Union Congress (TUC).
They are more likely to work extra hours than mothers, fathers and men without children, according to the union organisation.
However, it is men with children who put in the highest number of unpaid hours - 8.3 hours per week on average.
The TUC says five million workers in the UK do unpaid overtime, saving employers almost £25bn in 2007.
The report indicates that 24.2% of women without children do unpaid overtime - the highest number of any other group.
But this declines to 17% amongst women with children.
'Impossible choices'
The Fawcett Society, which campaigns for equal pay and conditions, said women were being presented with "impossible choices".
"They are forced to choose between caring for a family at home or maximising their career opportunities in a workplace that measures performance by the number of hours put in," the society's Kat Banyard said.
The TUC's general secretary, Brendan Barber, said this was preventing women getting the top jobs in their profession.
"It is hardly surprising that the senior levels of most organisations are male and that the gender pay gap stubbornly persists," he said.
Fathers' hours
Whereas women without children are more likely than men to work extra hours without pay, those men who do overtime do a higher number of hours unpaid.
And it is men with children who do the greatest number of unpaid hours, more than eight per week on average.
"On average, fathers who put in unpaid overtime are doing almost an extra day a week. This can't be good for them, their children or wider society," Mr Barber said.
Teachers do the most unpaid work, an average of 11.2 hours per week. This is valued at more than £12,000 a year.
Workers in the legal, financial and media industries are also expected to work long hours without pay.
The TUC is urging employees to take proper breaks and says bosses should thank their staff by taking them to lunch.
The employers' organisation the CBI said it could be necessary for staff to work longer hours.
"Professional staff tend to work the longest hours and this is reflected in the more generous salaries they earn," a spokesperson said.
"Hourly workers who put in long shifts get paid overtime and often welcome the extra money in their pay packets," he said.
The TUC's research was carried out using official Office for National Statistics figures.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
From an email I receive from a friend (thanks Xiu Mei!)
Is this possible?
Are the purple lines straight or bent?
Do you see the grey areas in between the squares? Now, where did they come from?
You should see a man's face and also a word...
(Hint: try tilting your head to the right, the word begins with 'L'...
If you take a look at the following picture , let me tell you . it is not animated.
Your eyes are making it move. To test this, stare at one spot for a couple seconds and everything will stop moving.
Or look at the black center of each circle and it will stop moving.
But move your eyes to the next black center and the previous will move after you take your eyes away from it....
Weird!!
¶ 2/20/2008 10:00:00 pm 0 comments
Sunday, February 17, 2008
School House Rockz (SHR) Theme Song MV
¶ 2/17/2008 12:08:00 pm 0 comments
Right, this is the Theme Song which the parody's based upon.
OMG
Violinist: Fall fractures $1M fiddle
By THOMAS WAGNER, Associated Press Writer
Source: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080214/ap_en_mu/odd_fractured_fiddle
LONDON - Can his fractured fiddle — a million dollar Guadagnini — be fixed? It's too early to tell.
David Garrett, a former model who has been called the David Beckham of the classical scene, said he tripped while carrying his 18th century violin as he was leaving London's Barbican Hall after a performance, smashing it to bits.
"I had it over my shoulder in its case and I fell down a concrete flight of stairs backward," Garrett said Thursday. "When I opened the case, much of my G.B. Guadagnini had been crushed."
Garrett said he bought the 1772 violin for $1 million in 2003, and he is now hoping to get it repaired in New York, where he is based.
"I hope and pray that it can be fixed, but if it can't, I hope my insurance policy will let me buy another great violin," the 26-year-old musician said. He told The Associated Press that other published accounts saying the violin was a Stradivarius were incorrect. Guadagnini is believed by some to have been a student of Antonio Stradivari.
The accident occurred Dec. 27 but only came to light this week when he returned to London for another concert at the Barbican and told British reporters what had happened.
For his Valentine's Day concert there, he is playing a Stradivarius that's been loaned to him.
Garrett gained attention as a child prodigy. Before he was 10, he played as a soloist with the London Philharmonic, according to his Web site. When he studied at the Juilliard School in New York, he became a parttime model to help supplement his income.
¶ 2/17/2008 12:01:00 pm 0 comments
Violinist: Fall fractures $1M fiddle
By THOMAS WAGNER, Associated Press Writer
Source: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080214/ap_en_mu/odd_fractured_fiddle
LONDON - Can his fractured fiddle — a million dollar Guadagnini — be fixed? It's too early to tell.
David Garrett, a former model who has been called the David Beckham of the classical scene, said he tripped while carrying his 18th century violin as he was leaving London's Barbican Hall after a performance, smashing it to bits.
"I had it over my shoulder in its case and I fell down a concrete flight of stairs backward," Garrett said Thursday. "When I opened the case, much of my G.B. Guadagnini had been crushed."
Garrett said he bought the 1772 violin for $1 million in 2003, and he is now hoping to get it repaired in New York, where he is based.
"I hope and pray that it can be fixed, but if it can't, I hope my insurance policy will let me buy another great violin," the 26-year-old musician said. He told The Associated Press that other published accounts saying the violin was a Stradivarius were incorrect. Guadagnini is believed by some to have been a student of Antonio Stradivari.
The accident occurred Dec. 27 but only came to light this week when he returned to London for another concert at the Barbican and told British reporters what had happened.
For his Valentine's Day concert there, he is playing a Stradivarius that's been loaned to him.
Garrett gained attention as a child prodigy. Before he was 10, he played as a soloist with the London Philharmonic, according to his Web site. When he studied at the Juilliard School in New York, he became a parttime model to help supplement his income.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Soracco performs at the Poh Ern Shih (PES) Charity Gala Dinner tonight. The dinner is held to raise funds to support the completion of Phase 2 of the temple complex – in other words, the main temple complex that we see currently in construction. The highlight of the evening is an auction for five pieces of art – two in the medium of photography done by Mr Kwek Leng Joo, an avid photographer in his spare time, as well as the director of City Developments Limited (CDL) which owns the Grand Copthrone Waterfront hotel whose ballroom we are seated in at this moment. The other three pieces of tapestry are done with locally-born but internationally-renowned fashion designer Benny Ong.
* * *
Ajahn’s talk tonight is not so much about the dharma, but generally to grace the occasion. Yet there are some points that I want to put up: namely, about learning to relax and let go; about generosity and kindness; as well as some information about symbols.
I take heart the very first thing he mentions. A temple, or any religious site of worship, is not just a structure. It is about the people who make it function, who maintain it as a spiritual sanctuary.
Point 1: take things at a slower, more relaxed pace
Slow down, enjoy life. Like a piece of artwork, take your time to do it, pay attention to the details.
Ajahn tells us a story that took place when he was still a novice monk in Laos.
This friend of his goes to an eatery in Luang Prabang, the second-largest city in Laos, for lunch. At one table sits a group of government troops, rifles propped up against the rattan wall of the restaurant.
Suddenly, members of the Pathet Lao (the Laos Communist Party) show up at the restaurant. The friend panics, and is about to dive under the table, for the fear of what might ensue.
The Communist troops simply head for another table, prop their rifles against the wall, and order their food. There is no fighting.
In Laos, war stops for lunch.
Point 2: generosity and kindness
Acts of generosity and kindness inspire us – they inspire us to want to do the same.
Ajahn tells the story of this Laotian lady who fled the country with her family in the midst of the Indochina war. The family moved to Oregon, USA, but a clerical error caused the lady – then a young girl – a passage to Australia. Hence she was separated from the rest of her family.
Years later, her brother sends a telegram stating that their mother did not have long to live. He requested his sister to come to the States to visit their mother for possibly the last time. The young lady was distraught because she was a refugee who could not afford the air passage to the USA. She went to see Ajahn Brahm.
At the same time, there was a nurse who had been out-of-work, and she, too, had just sought counsel from Ajahn. As she left the room, she heard the plight of the Laotian woman. She returned, and without hesitation, wrote a blank cheque and passed it to the woman. ‘Here, take this cheque and go see your mother.’ She sponsored the Laotian woman’s trip, even though she was unemployed and in financial uncertainty herself. If we are wearing the shoes of the Laotian woman, our gratitude will never cease.
What happens when you cannot afford to give money? Give your life! Give your life to serve other people, to help them out of their difficulties. Like Ajahn himself, who cannot handle money.
Ajahn then goes on to describe a little about the symbolism each of the five art pieces represent. The first artwork contains the silhouette of the Buddha’s head over a golden background. The Buddha’s head is a symbol, Ajahn explains. When we bow to it, we are not just bowing to the statue. Instead, we are bowing to peace, compassion and virtue. Ajahn tells about a Christian school principal (his former boss – he used to be a teacher before he ordained as a monk) who had a Buddha statue in his office. When queried, the principal replied it was a symbol of peace.
The other art pieces contain similar images – a hand and butterflies. The butterfly is a symbol of enlightenment – it is liberated and free. From the hand comes the source of liberation – it allows the butterflies to go their own ways.
* * *
The auction is fun at the beginning, as the hosts attempt to whip the enthusiasm of the crowd, encouraging them to purchase one of the art works as acts of generosity and kindness. The hosts are Henry Heng, a local comedian for television, as well as this Indian lady, Sumadhi (not sure if the spelling is correct, but this is how it sounds) who can speak fluent Mandarin, that puts many of us to shame!
Unfortunately she goes a little overboard into her conduct of the auction. Instead of focussing keeping the auction going on and ending in good time, she keeps engaging in a bit too much witty repartee with her co-host Henry Heng, a local Mandarin TV comedian, eventually irritating him as well as he is trying to get people to raise their hands to bid rather than listen to her talk on and on. Some of us at the table murmur that we will ‘gladly pay money for her to shut up’. Come on, get on with the auction! That’s what an auction is; this is not some 相声! (Xiang Sheng: exchanges of wits between two equally apt comedians or public speakers) To make matters worse, the air-conditioning is not very well done, and the ballroom is pretty badly crammed, with just enough room for one waist to slip past the narrow crevice between chair to chair. Some of our friends feel faint and very stuffed up. And they have to contend with nonsense that can be avoided. It just makes one feel frustrated. My stage manager friend is not happy about it either, complaining that she is taking her own direction rather than following the tasks she is expected off.
The bids begin slowly at first, increasing in tempo as time (and price levels) wear on. One of the bidders, in a great act of generosity, tells us all that he intends to donate the artwork which he has just won to another auction!
During the auction, Wenjie tries this on our unsuspecting friends. ‘Come, come. Can you help me call the waiter?’ just as the nearest waiter is not anywhere near (within a radius of one table), and just as Henry Heng hollers, ‘$20,000! Anyone higher than that?’
* * *
Over-reliance on a remote-control is detrimental, especially when the battery goes kaput.
This is what happens to the control for the locking mechanism of the BF van. The driver, Mr Chua, tells us that the control won’t work. We have to use the key to unlock the vehicle’s doors – and it sets off the alarm as well. It doesn’t work to shut the door and lock it, because the alarm won’t stop. The last resort is to find some device inside the vehicle which can stop the alarm, because it is causing much distress to everyone inside the basement, and it’s such an embarrassment. What seems like the right button, located on the dashboard on the driver’s side, turns out not to work. Perhaps it’s not the right one. We call Brother Eddie, he says that there’s a button underneath the driver’s consol, around the area of the footpedals.
Uuugh! Where is it? We just cannot find!
I cannot recall what eventually solves the problem, but we have the front doors opened. Wenjie eggs them to get in and drive away! We certainly have no wish to try something else that will jeopardise the peace and sanctity of the hotel basement!
¶ 2/15/2008 11:56:00 am 0 comments
* * *
Ajahn’s talk tonight is not so much about the dharma, but generally to grace the occasion. Yet there are some points that I want to put up: namely, about learning to relax and let go; about generosity and kindness; as well as some information about symbols.
I take heart the very first thing he mentions. A temple, or any religious site of worship, is not just a structure. It is about the people who make it function, who maintain it as a spiritual sanctuary.
Point 1: take things at a slower, more relaxed pace
Slow down, enjoy life. Like a piece of artwork, take your time to do it, pay attention to the details.
Ajahn tells us a story that took place when he was still a novice monk in Laos.
This friend of his goes to an eatery in Luang Prabang, the second-largest city in Laos, for lunch. At one table sits a group of government troops, rifles propped up against the rattan wall of the restaurant.
Suddenly, members of the Pathet Lao (the Laos Communist Party) show up at the restaurant. The friend panics, and is about to dive under the table, for the fear of what might ensue.
The Communist troops simply head for another table, prop their rifles against the wall, and order their food. There is no fighting.
In Laos, war stops for lunch.
Point 2: generosity and kindness
Acts of generosity and kindness inspire us – they inspire us to want to do the same.
Ajahn tells the story of this Laotian lady who fled the country with her family in the midst of the Indochina war. The family moved to Oregon, USA, but a clerical error caused the lady – then a young girl – a passage to Australia. Hence she was separated from the rest of her family.
Years later, her brother sends a telegram stating that their mother did not have long to live. He requested his sister to come to the States to visit their mother for possibly the last time. The young lady was distraught because she was a refugee who could not afford the air passage to the USA. She went to see Ajahn Brahm.
At the same time, there was a nurse who had been out-of-work, and she, too, had just sought counsel from Ajahn. As she left the room, she heard the plight of the Laotian woman. She returned, and without hesitation, wrote a blank cheque and passed it to the woman. ‘Here, take this cheque and go see your mother.’ She sponsored the Laotian woman’s trip, even though she was unemployed and in financial uncertainty herself. If we are wearing the shoes of the Laotian woman, our gratitude will never cease.
What happens when you cannot afford to give money? Give your life! Give your life to serve other people, to help them out of their difficulties. Like Ajahn himself, who cannot handle money.
Ajahn then goes on to describe a little about the symbolism each of the five art pieces represent. The first artwork contains the silhouette of the Buddha’s head over a golden background. The Buddha’s head is a symbol, Ajahn explains. When we bow to it, we are not just bowing to the statue. Instead, we are bowing to peace, compassion and virtue. Ajahn tells about a Christian school principal (his former boss – he used to be a teacher before he ordained as a monk) who had a Buddha statue in his office. When queried, the principal replied it was a symbol of peace.
The other art pieces contain similar images – a hand and butterflies. The butterfly is a symbol of enlightenment – it is liberated and free. From the hand comes the source of liberation – it allows the butterflies to go their own ways.
* * *
The auction is fun at the beginning, as the hosts attempt to whip the enthusiasm of the crowd, encouraging them to purchase one of the art works as acts of generosity and kindness. The hosts are Henry Heng, a local comedian for television, as well as this Indian lady, Sumadhi (not sure if the spelling is correct, but this is how it sounds) who can speak fluent Mandarin, that puts many of us to shame!
Unfortunately she goes a little overboard into her conduct of the auction. Instead of focussing keeping the auction going on and ending in good time, she keeps engaging in a bit too much witty repartee with her co-host Henry Heng, a local Mandarin TV comedian, eventually irritating him as well as he is trying to get people to raise their hands to bid rather than listen to her talk on and on. Some of us at the table murmur that we will ‘gladly pay money for her to shut up’. Come on, get on with the auction! That’s what an auction is; this is not some 相声! (Xiang Sheng: exchanges of wits between two equally apt comedians or public speakers) To make matters worse, the air-conditioning is not very well done, and the ballroom is pretty badly crammed, with just enough room for one waist to slip past the narrow crevice between chair to chair. Some of our friends feel faint and very stuffed up. And they have to contend with nonsense that can be avoided. It just makes one feel frustrated. My stage manager friend is not happy about it either, complaining that she is taking her own direction rather than following the tasks she is expected off.
The bids begin slowly at first, increasing in tempo as time (and price levels) wear on. One of the bidders, in a great act of generosity, tells us all that he intends to donate the artwork which he has just won to another auction!
During the auction, Wenjie tries this on our unsuspecting friends. ‘Come, come. Can you help me call the waiter?’ just as the nearest waiter is not anywhere near (within a radius of one table), and just as Henry Heng hollers, ‘$20,000! Anyone higher than that?’
* * *
Over-reliance on a remote-control is detrimental, especially when the battery goes kaput.
This is what happens to the control for the locking mechanism of the BF van. The driver, Mr Chua, tells us that the control won’t work. We have to use the key to unlock the vehicle’s doors – and it sets off the alarm as well. It doesn’t work to shut the door and lock it, because the alarm won’t stop. The last resort is to find some device inside the vehicle which can stop the alarm, because it is causing much distress to everyone inside the basement, and it’s such an embarrassment. What seems like the right button, located on the dashboard on the driver’s side, turns out not to work. Perhaps it’s not the right one. We call Brother Eddie, he says that there’s a button underneath the driver’s consol, around the area of the footpedals.
Uuugh! Where is it? We just cannot find!
I cannot recall what eventually solves the problem, but we have the front doors opened. Wenjie eggs them to get in and drive away! We certainly have no wish to try something else that will jeopardise the peace and sanctity of the hotel basement!
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Metta – Love Heals
A talk by Ajahn Brahm, 14 Feb 2008, Buddhist Fellowship Centre
This evening I am at a talk entitled Metta – Love Heals, given by Ajahn Brahm. As always Ajahn delivers in his witty fashion and indulges us with real-life experiences that always make us feel that we are not alone, and the impossible can be done, because these people have done it. I have here some notes from the talk which I really want to share, because love is this entity that everybody experiences and it exists in so many different forms and has been abused, clichéd, commercialised, exploited – whatever you name it – through and through and through. In any case, these notes are saving grace for those already in a relationship – be it married or just going steady – things to take note of to mend your relationship if it’s already in turmoil; if its going smoothly, how to maintain it and let it last. For singles out there, Ajahn provides tips how we can go out to woo the opposite sex – what really attracts and draws other people towards you?
(DISCLAIMER: I have all this written down on paper – as usual I attend talks armed with pen and paper because I have such poor memory of facts that I need a written record, hence I am able to reproduce Ajahn’s points in such detail.
Do share this around, it helps a lot especially in times of confusion and trouble. BF has done an audio recording of the talk and it should be available on their website in time to come)
Point 1: it’s all about us
In a relationship, one should never think of oneself, or even think of the other. The couple should be thinking about US.
If there are problems, they’re not his, they’re not hers, but OURS.
Point 2: kindle the flame
Words don’t mean a lot. All the nice adjectives that you use to describe your partner merely constitutes as ‘paper fire’. Soon it’ll burn out – that’s when the relationship might begin to hit some rocks.
You need to add more fuel to make the fire substantial. Doing things together helps kindle and strengthen the flames.
Of course, sometimes it gets overly hot – that’s when friction and arguments occur! Then we have to try to take the fire back under control. How do we do that?
Point 3: positive attitudes towards your partner
Look beyond people’s mistakes! Look beyond the two bad bricks out of a wall of a thousand bricks. Look at the beautiful qualities in them
When people make mistakes, practice POSITIVE FORGIVENESS. Forgiveness is not good enough, what if someone makes the mistake again? You can’t keep on forgiving forever. What are you going to do about it?
Hence, practice POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT. When someone hurts you, let it go.
Don’t punish them – punishment is not forgiveness. When someone does something right, or showers you with care and concern, let the person know, appreciate his/her actions. This goes a long way in encouraging the other person that this is the right thing to do. Reward them. This occurs – and works – for any kind of relationships, be they personal or professional.
Ajahn tells us the story of this woman who had an abusive husband. She would come to temple regularly, because that would be the only opportunity for her to get away from the beatings that her husband inflicted upon her. She knew no way to deal with her husband’s violence towards her, and pleaded Ajahn for help.
Ajahn suggested positive reinforcement and forgiveness. When she was hit, she tried hard to forget about it. When her husband did something good for her, she made him feel appreciated.
It took seven long years before her husband dropped all his abusiveness, and became a loving husband and a good father to the children. But this shows that it works!
Point 4: finding a good partner
The only thing about your image to worry about: make sure you SMILE! We like fun people. We like people who know how to laugh. Laughing and smiling gives others the impression that one is happy about life! We want to be around positive people rather than negative people who might affect us.
Ajahn mentions an irony about love between a couple and love between parents and their children. Couples put a lot of effort in their search for their ideal partners, yet they can’t love their partners completely. They throw expectations to their partners, pressurising them to fulfil. On the other hand, children can’t be picked in the manner partners are sought – they come to us naturally – but we still love them for who they are.
Why can’t people give our partners the same unconditional love that they give their children?
Here Ajahn reminds us to open the door of our heart: UNCONDITIONAL LOVE. Whatever the other does, one should continue to love him/her. The trouble is people control out of the fear that the relationship does not work – that’s déjà vu because the relationship really tenses and sours because of the domination and lack of mutual trust. When one gives another metta: that’s providing love that does not demand anything. The partner will reciprocate given the liberation and trust. Ajahn uses the metaphor of a caged bird: a bird that has been locked up for a long duration yearns freedom, and once the bird cage is accidentally left unlocked or opened, the bird will gladly fly out and never return, because it knows if it comes back, it’s coming back to prison again.
In the same way, your partner won’t like to be controlled, and needs room for him-/herself.
Point 5: love yourself first!
Ajahn tells us that too many people depreciate themselves. Remember what he said about people liking happy people? Our individual selves carry too much luggage. In order to free ourselves, we need to come to peace with ourselves: forgive ourselves and learn to appreciate and love ourselves.
So he suggests giving ourselves a Valentine’s Day gift!
Interestingly the German word for love is ‘lieber’, which suggests ‘liberation’ in English!
Point 6: liberate your loved ones who are about to die
When one’s partner is about to die, help liberate them so that they can leave this world in peace.
Ajahn tells the story of Steve and Jenny from Australia, both Buddhists. Steve, aged 37, had cancer, which had reached the terminal stage. Ajahn went to see the couple during Steve’s last days. He noted that there was some tension between Steve and Jenny, even as Steve was nearing the end of his life. That shouldn’t be it, he thought, because he knew that Steve and Jenny were a loving couple. He asked Jenny, if she had given her husband permission to leave. Jenny immediately knew what he meant. She went to the bed, climbed in, hugged him and told him that she loved him, and that he was free to live this world. Steve died about a day later, but very much freed.
Right, these are the six points discussed during the talk.
A few people asks questions at the end of the talk.
What if you’re in a relationship and you think that the love is gone?
The love is just hidden somewhere. One has to look for the connection again – what made one love the other in the first place.
Look at people as beautiful, beyond what they have done. Give them unconditional love. Wish them well; be kind to them, and others will appreciate and reciprocate. When one does that, one can really love anybody in this world.
On the issue of trust:
Control brings about greater trouble; on the other when mutual trust is practised, most of the time people live up to it.
What if there are persons proven untrustworthy?
Ajahn says that there’s no such thing as an untrustworthy person! To rephrase, they only break the trust. What about their other good qualities? We have to look beyond the two bad bricks out of a wall of a thousand.
What happens if one is awakened to incompatibility?
What is compatibility? It can be learned! That is, if one has the will to.
In short:
As individuals, whether in a relationship or single, one should be positive and happy.
As a couple, it’s neither him nor her, it’s us!
Always kindle the flame of love with substance, not just paper-fire talk. Well, shit happens, and us has got to deal with it.
Provide unconditional love to one’s partner, no matter who they are, no matter what they have done. Only then can both feel liberated and trusted, and there is no pressure to fulfil expectations. Each side is allowed to grow on their own.
Positive forgiveness and positive reinforcement: using the latter to try to gently persuade and drive home the message of what is the right thing to do in human relations.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
America's Most Miserable Cities
By Kurt Badenhausen, Forbes.com
Feb 11th, 2008
Source: http://promo.realestate.yahoo.com/americas-most-miserable-cities.html
Imagine living in a city with the country's highest rate for violent crime and the second-highest unemployment rate. As an added kicker you need more Superfund dollars allocated to your city to clean up contaminated toxic waste sites than just about any other metro.
Unfortunately, this nightmare is a reality for the residents of Detroit. The Motor City grabs the top spot on Forbes' inaugural list of America's Most Miserable Cities.
Misery is defined as a state of great unhappiness and emotional distress. The economic indicator most often used to measure misery is the Misery Index. The index, created by economist Arthur Okun, adds the unemployment rate to the inflation rate. It has been in the narrow 7-to-9 range for most of the past decade, but was over 20 during the late 1970s.
There also exists a Misery Score, which is the sum of corporate, personal, employer and sales taxes in different countries. France took the top spot (or perhaps bottom is more appropriate) with a score of 166.8, thanks to a top rate of 51% on personal incomes and 45% for employer Social Security.
But aren't there other things that cause Americans misery? Of course. So we decided to expand on the Misery Index and the Misery Score to create our very own Forbes Misery Measure. We're sticking with unemployment and personal tax rates, but we are adding four more factors that can make people miserable: commute times, weather, crime and that toxic waste dump in your backyard.
We looked at only the 150 largest metropolitan areas, which meant a minimum population of 371,000. We ranked the cities on the six criteria above and added their ranks together to establish what we call the Misery Measure. The data used in the rankings came from Portland, Ore., researcher Bert Sperling, who last year published the second edition of Cities Ranked & Rated along with Peter Sander. Economic research firm Economy.com, which is owned by Moody's, also supplied some data.
Detroit in the top spot, with its sister city Flint ranked third, is probably not a great shock. "If Detroit were a baseball team, we'd say they are mired in a slump," says Sperling. Both Detroit and Flint have suffered tremendously from the auto industry downturn. Flint's plight was immortalized in the Michael Moore movie Roger & Me, which chronicles Moore's attempts to meet with then General Motors Chief Executive Roger Smith.
Crime and unemployment are closely linked, according to Sperling. Our three most miserable places bear that out (Stockton, Calif., ranks second). All three are among the eight worst cities in terms of both unemployment and violent crime.
The United States' two biggest cities both induce a ton of misery. New York was the fourth most miserable city by our count, while Los Angeles clocked in at sixth. The Big Apple has the longest commute times (36.2 minutes) and the highest tax rates (10.5%) in the country. As the financial capital of the world and home to write-down kings Merrill Lynch and Citigroup, New York appears poised for more misery in 2008.
The people of La-La Land have some of the best weather in the U.S. (it's ranked seventh) but scored poorly when it came to commute times, Superfund sites and taxes. And we did not even factor in air quality, where Los Angeles is the worst in the nation by far, according to Sperling.
The biggest surprise on our list is Charlotte, N.C., which is ranked ninth. Charlotte has undergone tremendous economic growth the past decade, while the population has soared 32%. But the current picture isn't as bright. Employment growth has not kept up with population growth, meaning unemployment rates are up more than 50% compared with 10 years ago. Charlotte scored in the bottom half of all six categories we examined. It scored the worst on violent crime, ranking 140th.
So take heart, Detroit, you are not alone. After all, misery loves company.
Read more about these cities:
http://www.forbes.com/2008/01/29/detroit-stockton-flint-biz-cz_kb_0130miserable_slide_2.html?partner=yahoore
¶ 2/12/2008 08:36:00 am 0 comments
By Kurt Badenhausen, Forbes.com
Feb 11th, 2008
Source: http://promo.realestate.yahoo.com/americas-most-miserable-cities.html
Imagine living in a city with the country's highest rate for violent crime and the second-highest unemployment rate. As an added kicker you need more Superfund dollars allocated to your city to clean up contaminated toxic waste sites than just about any other metro.
Unfortunately, this nightmare is a reality for the residents of Detroit. The Motor City grabs the top spot on Forbes' inaugural list of America's Most Miserable Cities.
Misery is defined as a state of great unhappiness and emotional distress. The economic indicator most often used to measure misery is the Misery Index. The index, created by economist Arthur Okun, adds the unemployment rate to the inflation rate. It has been in the narrow 7-to-9 range for most of the past decade, but was over 20 during the late 1970s.
There also exists a Misery Score, which is the sum of corporate, personal, employer and sales taxes in different countries. France took the top spot (or perhaps bottom is more appropriate) with a score of 166.8, thanks to a top rate of 51% on personal incomes and 45% for employer Social Security.
But aren't there other things that cause Americans misery? Of course. So we decided to expand on the Misery Index and the Misery Score to create our very own Forbes Misery Measure. We're sticking with unemployment and personal tax rates, but we are adding four more factors that can make people miserable: commute times, weather, crime and that toxic waste dump in your backyard.
We looked at only the 150 largest metropolitan areas, which meant a minimum population of 371,000. We ranked the cities on the six criteria above and added their ranks together to establish what we call the Misery Measure. The data used in the rankings came from Portland, Ore., researcher Bert Sperling, who last year published the second edition of Cities Ranked & Rated along with Peter Sander. Economic research firm Economy.com, which is owned by Moody's, also supplied some data.
Detroit in the top spot, with its sister city Flint ranked third, is probably not a great shock. "If Detroit were a baseball team, we'd say they are mired in a slump," says Sperling. Both Detroit and Flint have suffered tremendously from the auto industry downturn. Flint's plight was immortalized in the Michael Moore movie Roger & Me, which chronicles Moore's attempts to meet with then General Motors Chief Executive Roger Smith.
Crime and unemployment are closely linked, according to Sperling. Our three most miserable places bear that out (Stockton, Calif., ranks second). All three are among the eight worst cities in terms of both unemployment and violent crime.
The United States' two biggest cities both induce a ton of misery. New York was the fourth most miserable city by our count, while Los Angeles clocked in at sixth. The Big Apple has the longest commute times (36.2 minutes) and the highest tax rates (10.5%) in the country. As the financial capital of the world and home to write-down kings Merrill Lynch and Citigroup, New York appears poised for more misery in 2008.
The people of La-La Land have some of the best weather in the U.S. (it's ranked seventh) but scored poorly when it came to commute times, Superfund sites and taxes. And we did not even factor in air quality, where Los Angeles is the worst in the nation by far, according to Sperling.
The biggest surprise on our list is Charlotte, N.C., which is ranked ninth. Charlotte has undergone tremendous economic growth the past decade, while the population has soared 32%. But the current picture isn't as bright. Employment growth has not kept up with population growth, meaning unemployment rates are up more than 50% compared with 10 years ago. Charlotte scored in the bottom half of all six categories we examined. It scored the worst on violent crime, ranking 140th.
So take heart, Detroit, you are not alone. After all, misery loves company.
Read more about these cities:
http://www.forbes.com/2008/01/29/detroit-stockton-flint-biz-cz_kb_0130miserable_slide_2.html?partner=yahoore
Monday, February 11, 2008
LT: Lecture Treats
From An Introductory History to Southeast Asia, by A/P Timothy P. Barnard
The seemingly unassuming North Bridge Road in Singapore has a bit of history behind it.
And it’s a pretty ugly one about colonialism.
A little background to the story: as we know in 1819 Raffles signed a treaty with Hussein, the Sultan of Johore which gave the British the permission to establish a trading post on the island of Singapore, which was part of the Johore-Riau Sultanate. Now, they weren’t given the entire island; only the southern portion where our Civil District and CBD now lies.
Raffles didn’t stay long in Singapore after signing that treaty. He and his entourage left Singapore, leaving William Farquhar behind to take care of things.
Farquhar was chummy with the Malays. He hung out often with the Sultan and the Temenggong. He gave newcomers to Singapore much flexibility, for instance, liberty to decide where they’d like to settle down and construct their buildings.
When Raffles returned five years later, he was flabbergasted at the transformation – and he was pissed with Farquhar. Farquhar was sacked and placed with John Crawfurd (recognise Crawfurd Bridge in Lavender?). Crawfurd was the antithesis of Farquhar: scientific, rational, organised – a man imbued with the principles of the Enlightenment.
Crawfurd negotiated the 1824 Treaty, which effectively signed away the rights of the Johore-Riau Sultanate to rule the island.
We also know that various ethnic groups were segregated into varying communities: the Westerners in European Town; the Chinese in Chinatown; the Indians in Kampong Chulia and the Malays in Kampong Glam. Kampong Glam was located in the area roughly from the present-day Concourse building on Beach Road, up to the Sultan Mosque.
Here the (lengthy… I apologise) background ends. North Bridge Road (the same one that we know of today) stretches east to west, a mode of communication into the main commercial area (i.e. present-day CBD). Crawfurd wanted to extend the road eastwards. This meant the road would slice right through the heart of Kampong Glam!
Sultan Hussein protested. Kampong Glam was his base of power, surely the British should consult him about this? It would be an insult for a colonial-constructed road to impede into his territory without his approval.
Crawfurd simply went ahead with the extension of the road. To put it in my lecturer’s words, it was a ‘screw you’ from Crawfurd.
What is the significance of North Bridge Road? It represents the might of colonial power, which can ignore and override the authorities and cultures of indigenous, traditional rulers.
¶ 2/11/2008 12:48:00 pm 0 comments
From An Introductory History to Southeast Asia, by A/P Timothy P. Barnard
The seemingly unassuming North Bridge Road in Singapore has a bit of history behind it.
And it’s a pretty ugly one about colonialism.
A little background to the story: as we know in 1819 Raffles signed a treaty with Hussein, the Sultan of Johore which gave the British the permission to establish a trading post on the island of Singapore, which was part of the Johore-Riau Sultanate. Now, they weren’t given the entire island; only the southern portion where our Civil District and CBD now lies.
Raffles didn’t stay long in Singapore after signing that treaty. He and his entourage left Singapore, leaving William Farquhar behind to take care of things.
Farquhar was chummy with the Malays. He hung out often with the Sultan and the Temenggong. He gave newcomers to Singapore much flexibility, for instance, liberty to decide where they’d like to settle down and construct their buildings.
When Raffles returned five years later, he was flabbergasted at the transformation – and he was pissed with Farquhar. Farquhar was sacked and placed with John Crawfurd (recognise Crawfurd Bridge in Lavender?). Crawfurd was the antithesis of Farquhar: scientific, rational, organised – a man imbued with the principles of the Enlightenment.
Crawfurd negotiated the 1824 Treaty, which effectively signed away the rights of the Johore-Riau Sultanate to rule the island.
We also know that various ethnic groups were segregated into varying communities: the Westerners in European Town; the Chinese in Chinatown; the Indians in Kampong Chulia and the Malays in Kampong Glam. Kampong Glam was located in the area roughly from the present-day Concourse building on Beach Road, up to the Sultan Mosque.
Here the (lengthy… I apologise) background ends. North Bridge Road (the same one that we know of today) stretches east to west, a mode of communication into the main commercial area (i.e. present-day CBD). Crawfurd wanted to extend the road eastwards. This meant the road would slice right through the heart of Kampong Glam!
Sultan Hussein protested. Kampong Glam was his base of power, surely the British should consult him about this? It would be an insult for a colonial-constructed road to impede into his territory without his approval.
Crawfurd simply went ahead with the extension of the road. To put it in my lecturer’s words, it was a ‘screw you’ from Crawfurd.
What is the significance of North Bridge Road? It represents the might of colonial power, which can ignore and override the authorities and cultures of indigenous, traditional rulers.
Friday, February 08, 2008
When too much music on the job terrorizes your brain:
One day at the studio I ask Wenfu about updates on the payment for a project I collaborated with him last year.
‘Once the payment is ready, I’ll bounce* the cheque for you.’
And then he realizes what he has just said.
*In the realm of music, that refers to a more detailed export of music from working session into audio format particularly from Pro Tools software.
In the world of finances, it means your cheque has gone BAD.
¶ 2/08/2008 06:46:00 pm 1 comments
Thursday, February 07, 2008
There’s a pretty interesting game show on this Taiwanese CNY (Chinese New Year) variety show. It’s a bit like charades. The fascinating bit about it is that the person who has to provide clues to Chinese words in ENGLISH. And you really see some of them eliciting amusing clues to their partners.
Take ‘101 Taipei’, for instance.
Okay I can’t remember how exactly she said it, but in short, it’s something like this:
‘You know, where you go up to kiss, kiss – very high (she begins gesturing something that is vertically elongated)… then 10, 9, 8, 7… 3, 2, 1, BWAM! Fireworks! (Here she begins gesturing fireworks shooting out from the centre, headed left and right, in the direction of top to bottom)…’
And the guy provides the right answer: 101 Taipei (in Chinese; I can’t remember what the Chinese name for that structure is though. Even so I can’t decipher it graphically because it is in traditional, un-simplified Chinese).
¶ 2/07/2008 05:01:00 pm 0 comments
Take ‘101 Taipei’, for instance.
Okay I can’t remember how exactly she said it, but in short, it’s something like this:
‘You know, where you go up to kiss, kiss – very high (she begins gesturing something that is vertically elongated)… then 10, 9, 8, 7… 3, 2, 1, BWAM! Fireworks! (Here she begins gesturing fireworks shooting out from the centre, headed left and right, in the direction of top to bottom)…’
And the guy provides the right answer: 101 Taipei (in Chinese; I can’t remember what the Chinese name for that structure is though. Even so I can’t decipher it graphically because it is in traditional, un-simplified Chinese).
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Some student group is selling helium-filled balloons (with strings attached) at $1 each around the school premises.
Talk about inflation.
¶ 2/06/2008 10:59:00 pm 0 comments
Talk about inflation.
I have to blog about this with immediacy because the experience is still fresh in my mind and I have been deeply inspired by it.
We watch a film The Overture (http://www.kino.com/theoverture/) in lecture for Old and New Music in Southeast Asia.
The Overture traces the life of the great Thai ranad-ek (Thai wooden xylophone) player and later teacher, Luang Pradit Phairao, exemplified through the character of Sorn. You can read more about the ranad-ek and view a picture of it through this link:
http://www.culture.go.th/research/musical/html/en_musical_central.php?musical=ranad_ek.
The time frame shuttles between the past and the present. You can almost say that it completes a full cycle, because the film opens with the old Sorn lying on his sickbed with his best childhood friend and his family by his side, and it ends in the same way, except that we find out that the state of his health is much worse and he eventually dies.
It is discovered that Sorn has a natural affinity for the ranad, which his elder brother also plays. Their father is a musician as well, the leader of an ensemble.
Sorn’s dreams of becoming a musician nearly vanish after his elder is killed by jealous musicians, whom he had competed against. Heartbroken, his father stores away the ranad as the look and sound of it reminds him of his late son. Sorn has to practice clandestinely at a temple. Thankfully, a sangha advises the father not to let his grief thwart Sorn’s talents. The father takes Sorn under his wing and trains him as a musician. Sorn’s primary instrument is the ranad-ek, the lead instrument in the Thai music ensemble. At the same time, he also learns how to play other instruments from the rest of the players in the ensemble. In a way he has an all-rounded training that prepares him to take on other instrument, although his primary focus is still the ranad-ek.
The film then takes us through stages of Sorn’s youth. His achievements culminate at a music competition at the Royal Court where he is pitted against another great ranak-ed player, Khun In, who comes from another court and is his primary rival. We see Sorn’s rise and fall as a musician struggling to express himself, who is, at times, held back by traditional, orthodox ideas towards performance styles. Experimentation is sometimes viewed negatively as insolence. Several times in the film does Sorn get rapped by senior musicians, including his own father: ‘How dare you play like that!’ Nevertheless there are also people who are refreshed by Sorn’s adventurous outlook in music. They recognize his talent and encourage him warmly. The master at the Royal Court who eventually prepares Sorn for the competition allows his protégé to find his voice, rather than dictate the young man towards acceptable styles.
In the course of showing the history of young Sorn, the film seamlessly threads into Sorn’s life in old age, where he is a much-respected music master and teacher. There are two premises in this situation: (1) the relationship between Sorn and his disciple, Terd, who seems to mirror Sorn in his younger days as he is being mentored by an experienced senior; (2) the struggle to overcome ‘absurd’ and ‘ridiculous’ (to quote words used in the film) regulations issued by the Thai military government during the period of the Japanese Occupation in its effort to modernize and develop Thai society by wiping out old customs. For instance, a rule dictates that musicians are not allowed to sit on the floor while playing – they have to sit on a chair and put the instrument on the table. Every performance has to be censored by the authorities – during a street theatrical performance, soldiers hold up the show while they censure the script and spell out rules and regulations that the troupe must abide by.
The ‘present’ provides a glimpse as to what kind of a musician Sorn really is. He is open to new ideas, is not afraid to experiment, and at the same time very defensive about tradition. Sure, you respect the mannerisms of performing a instrument, but when it comes musical styles there are no boundaries to what you can coax out of the instrument. To prove it, there is a scene whereby Sorn’s second son plays a jazz composition for his father on a piano he had acquired from Austria that he recently added to the household. After listening for a while, Sorn tells him to stop. We think that Sorn is going to reprimand him for playing such pieces, given that Sorn is a classical Thai musician. But no, Sorn goes to the ranad, and tells his son to play the piece again. They jam. It is an interesting fusion not only in instrumentation but in harmonies and rhythms as well. A classic sound fused with a modern, contemporary Western one.
There are many instances of passion exhibited in the performance that leave me tingling in the spine and very, very touched. Firstly, Sorn’s control of his instrument. His attack; his phrasing; his virtuosity. Those scenes of musical performances are very exciting to watch, especially the showdown between Sorn and Khun In in a one-to-one competition where each musician tries to outdo the other. Accompanied by a driving drumbeat that only gets faster and faster, each musician delivers his solo in rapid succession, watching their rival with astonishment and sometimes pure fear, probably wondering how to outdo him when it came to his turn. I will post the Youtube video of the competition on the blog for you to enjoy. The performance begins on 8/10 at 03:30, and continues into 9/10. If you are fascinated and would like to watch the entire movie from beginning to finish, get a DVD with subtitles, because the dialogue is all spoken in Thai.
Second, Piak (Sorn’s eldest son, also a good ranad-ek player) commits suicide after a bad accident causes him to break his wrist – ranad-playing depends very much on deft wrist-work, especially when one has to play repeated notes on the same key with extreme rapidity. Without music, there is not much left for him to live life for. I am shocked that he chooses to end his life, yet I am profoundly touched and I admire his deep passion for music. Music has really become his life.
Third, Terd’s bravery and his disregard for life as he tries to salvage the ranad during an air-raid. Just as Terd and old Sorn get into their car, the air-raid sirens go off. They abandon the car, and make their way towards shelter. Halfway, Terd realizes that he has forgotten to bring the ranad, which he has left in the boot of their vehicle. He tells Sorn to move ahead, despite Sorn’s protests, returns to the car. Just as he retrieves the ranad, a bomb falls near him and knocks him out. The ranad falls to the floor; we fear that Terd has lost his life and the ranad destroyed. A fruitless effort.
Moments later, at the air-raid siren, Terd appears in front of his master, carrying the ranad in its entirety.
These musicians really give all their lives for their art. Really respectable and admirable!
I must admit I went into the lecture theatre not expecting much, but I am thoroughly impressed by the time the film ends (and the lecture ends as well). Of course the music might have been scored to sound so virtuosic – composers are credited for the score but we do not know if any of the pieces were classic Thai works, where it has not been the practice to put a composers’ name as the credit behind the work. But I must say I am now very fascinated by the sound of the ranad and other Thai instruments, that I really want to explore much more deeply in this area. And the ranad itself is such a versatile instrument for an ensemble – one instrument and one type of mallet can produce sounds from mellow to sharp, and stand above the ensemble most of the time.
¶ 2/06/2008 03:14:00 pm 1 comments
We watch a film The Overture (http://www.kino.com/theoverture/) in lecture for Old and New Music in Southeast Asia.
The Overture traces the life of the great Thai ranad-ek (Thai wooden xylophone) player and later teacher, Luang Pradit Phairao, exemplified through the character of Sorn. You can read more about the ranad-ek and view a picture of it through this link:
http://www.culture.go.th/research/musical/html/en_musical_central.php?musical=ranad_ek.
The time frame shuttles between the past and the present. You can almost say that it completes a full cycle, because the film opens with the old Sorn lying on his sickbed with his best childhood friend and his family by his side, and it ends in the same way, except that we find out that the state of his health is much worse and he eventually dies.
It is discovered that Sorn has a natural affinity for the ranad, which his elder brother also plays. Their father is a musician as well, the leader of an ensemble.
Sorn’s dreams of becoming a musician nearly vanish after his elder is killed by jealous musicians, whom he had competed against. Heartbroken, his father stores away the ranad as the look and sound of it reminds him of his late son. Sorn has to practice clandestinely at a temple. Thankfully, a sangha advises the father not to let his grief thwart Sorn’s talents. The father takes Sorn under his wing and trains him as a musician. Sorn’s primary instrument is the ranad-ek, the lead instrument in the Thai music ensemble. At the same time, he also learns how to play other instruments from the rest of the players in the ensemble. In a way he has an all-rounded training that prepares him to take on other instrument, although his primary focus is still the ranad-ek.
The film then takes us through stages of Sorn’s youth. His achievements culminate at a music competition at the Royal Court where he is pitted against another great ranak-ed player, Khun In, who comes from another court and is his primary rival. We see Sorn’s rise and fall as a musician struggling to express himself, who is, at times, held back by traditional, orthodox ideas towards performance styles. Experimentation is sometimes viewed negatively as insolence. Several times in the film does Sorn get rapped by senior musicians, including his own father: ‘How dare you play like that!’ Nevertheless there are also people who are refreshed by Sorn’s adventurous outlook in music. They recognize his talent and encourage him warmly. The master at the Royal Court who eventually prepares Sorn for the competition allows his protégé to find his voice, rather than dictate the young man towards acceptable styles.
In the course of showing the history of young Sorn, the film seamlessly threads into Sorn’s life in old age, where he is a much-respected music master and teacher. There are two premises in this situation: (1) the relationship between Sorn and his disciple, Terd, who seems to mirror Sorn in his younger days as he is being mentored by an experienced senior; (2) the struggle to overcome ‘absurd’ and ‘ridiculous’ (to quote words used in the film) regulations issued by the Thai military government during the period of the Japanese Occupation in its effort to modernize and develop Thai society by wiping out old customs. For instance, a rule dictates that musicians are not allowed to sit on the floor while playing – they have to sit on a chair and put the instrument on the table. Every performance has to be censored by the authorities – during a street theatrical performance, soldiers hold up the show while they censure the script and spell out rules and regulations that the troupe must abide by.
The ‘present’ provides a glimpse as to what kind of a musician Sorn really is. He is open to new ideas, is not afraid to experiment, and at the same time very defensive about tradition. Sure, you respect the mannerisms of performing a instrument, but when it comes musical styles there are no boundaries to what you can coax out of the instrument. To prove it, there is a scene whereby Sorn’s second son plays a jazz composition for his father on a piano he had acquired from Austria that he recently added to the household. After listening for a while, Sorn tells him to stop. We think that Sorn is going to reprimand him for playing such pieces, given that Sorn is a classical Thai musician. But no, Sorn goes to the ranad, and tells his son to play the piece again. They jam. It is an interesting fusion not only in instrumentation but in harmonies and rhythms as well. A classic sound fused with a modern, contemporary Western one.
There are many instances of passion exhibited in the performance that leave me tingling in the spine and very, very touched. Firstly, Sorn’s control of his instrument. His attack; his phrasing; his virtuosity. Those scenes of musical performances are very exciting to watch, especially the showdown between Sorn and Khun In in a one-to-one competition where each musician tries to outdo the other. Accompanied by a driving drumbeat that only gets faster and faster, each musician delivers his solo in rapid succession, watching their rival with astonishment and sometimes pure fear, probably wondering how to outdo him when it came to his turn. I will post the Youtube video of the competition on the blog for you to enjoy. The performance begins on 8/10 at 03:30, and continues into 9/10. If you are fascinated and would like to watch the entire movie from beginning to finish, get a DVD with subtitles, because the dialogue is all spoken in Thai.
Second, Piak (Sorn’s eldest son, also a good ranad-ek player) commits suicide after a bad accident causes him to break his wrist – ranad-playing depends very much on deft wrist-work, especially when one has to play repeated notes on the same key with extreme rapidity. Without music, there is not much left for him to live life for. I am shocked that he chooses to end his life, yet I am profoundly touched and I admire his deep passion for music. Music has really become his life.
Third, Terd’s bravery and his disregard for life as he tries to salvage the ranad during an air-raid. Just as Terd and old Sorn get into their car, the air-raid sirens go off. They abandon the car, and make their way towards shelter. Halfway, Terd realizes that he has forgotten to bring the ranad, which he has left in the boot of their vehicle. He tells Sorn to move ahead, despite Sorn’s protests, returns to the car. Just as he retrieves the ranad, a bomb falls near him and knocks him out. The ranad falls to the floor; we fear that Terd has lost his life and the ranad destroyed. A fruitless effort.
Moments later, at the air-raid siren, Terd appears in front of his master, carrying the ranad in its entirety.
These musicians really give all their lives for their art. Really respectable and admirable!
I must admit I went into the lecture theatre not expecting much, but I am thoroughly impressed by the time the film ends (and the lecture ends as well). Of course the music might have been scored to sound so virtuosic – composers are credited for the score but we do not know if any of the pieces were classic Thai works, where it has not been the practice to put a composers’ name as the credit behind the work. But I must say I am now very fascinated by the sound of the ranad and other Thai instruments, that I really want to explore much more deeply in this area. And the ranad itself is such a versatile instrument for an ensemble – one instrument and one type of mallet can produce sounds from mellow to sharp, and stand above the ensemble most of the time.
Thai Movie-The Overture 8/10
¶ 2/06/2008 03:06:00 pm 0 comments
The performance begins from 03:30 onwards
Friday, February 01, 2008
This has probably to be the craziest gig I’ve played so far.
Rit (Rit Xu, the pro Chinese flute player!) has graciously invited me to play for a gig. I have known Rit from Secondary School where we were both in the Chinese Orchestra, and it is a surprise to see him at Buddhist Fellowship (BF) early last year! It is such a coincidence, because he told me he was a walk-in member; on his first visit, he had come alone. Rit also played the Chinese flute in the recent Passage of Time musical, which ended about a week before.
So we’re playing a gig this Friday night at the Asian Civilisations Museum at Empress Place. It is a corporate function: the company has booked a hall within the Museum for a Chinese New Year get-together. Rit tells me that Moses is also playing. Moses is a terrific erhu player, we were both in Temasek, who wants to become a conductor and had gone to Russia to study for a short while. There are two other musicians whom I’m meeting for the first time: Samuel, the violinist, currently at the SAF Music and Drama Company, about to be discharged soon, and Xueqi, a pipa player from NAFA.
Okay, I’ve forgotten to mention that I’m playing keyboards.
Rit explains what my job is, after I ask him what songs we are to play that evening. ‘Just continue playing, try not to stop.’ In other words, I have to try to string all the songs we are playing into a medley.
‘But how do I know when to change songs, and in what key?’
‘It’s okay, I will tell you.’
This time I am terribly nervous about the gig, because here we have five musicians who are going to play together without rehearsal and… how on earth am I to inform the rest that we’re going to transit into another song?
Rit lets us know which songs we ought to begin with, and then he’d do his solo while we can rest – and I can think about what song we should do thereafter.
So we go on stage. The first number is Over the Rainbow. My fellow musicians are great improvisers – they provide the counterpoint on the fly and seem to understand telepathically when they should take the lead melody.
On the fly: yes, that’s the word.
As we’re about to finish with Over the Rainbow, Rit whispers to me, ‘The Moon Represents My Heart.’
I nod. We finish playing. I begin the introduction for the next song.
Rit: ‘In D,’
Stunned for the moment. I am playing a C-major chord. Without thinking I simply hit a D-major chord and replayed the introduction.
For those who are not sure about what I am saying, when you transit between chords – i.e. a few notes put together and sounded simultaneously – you can either produce a smooth, or jarring, passage. Certain chords have relations, so that when you place these chords in a certain combination or a certain passage, the whole package sounds good.
Having said so, a leap from C-major to D-major chord, so suddenly and brashly and without any transitory harmony in-between, that can be pretty ugly.
After that my fellow musicians were guffawing away in good cheer: ‘Wah, best, you just leap from C to D!’
At the end of the first set (we have to play two set that evening), we’re really – as Hokkiens use it – hooting. ‘Hoot’ means ‘whack’ – we have no plans, no scores, no prior agreement. Just you-look-at-me-I-look-at-you; somebody initiates something and the rest play along; me playing 1, 6, 4, 5 (chords in a scale) while struggling to decide what song to play next; me playing 1, 6, 4, 5 again and Rit telling me what song to do next and in what key. Transit, transit, and off we go.
The second set is much better, because we compile a list of repertoire during our break, based on the consensus that at least two people (including myself, since I am providing the meat of the pillars) know how to play it. We’re under some pressure to include a Korean song as apparently there’s a Korean guest with us tonight. We have troubles because one of us knows a particular number, but the others might not know. Moses suggests playing the theme song from ‘Jewel in the Palace’, but I do not know how to play that. Nevertheless, playing improves because we’ve finally had a chance to rehearse, albeit during the first set of the gig. At the same time, according to Moses, there are less people in the audience, so we’re less aware of ourselves.
At the end of a day, it’s a great experience: five people coming together in an immediate meeting of minds under pressure. There’s a sense of adrenaline compared to gigging alone; you have to be alert all the time.
Speaking of which, Southeast Asian musicians do that! Go watch the fiery exchange of musicians in Hom Rong ‘The Overture’, I have the link posted on an earlier date (apologies, because I do not write my posts in order. However, I post them according to the dates that they occur).
¶ 2/01/2008 05:42:00 pm 1 comments
Rit (Rit Xu, the pro Chinese flute player!) has graciously invited me to play for a gig. I have known Rit from Secondary School where we were both in the Chinese Orchestra, and it is a surprise to see him at Buddhist Fellowship (BF) early last year! It is such a coincidence, because he told me he was a walk-in member; on his first visit, he had come alone. Rit also played the Chinese flute in the recent Passage of Time musical, which ended about a week before.
So we’re playing a gig this Friday night at the Asian Civilisations Museum at Empress Place. It is a corporate function: the company has booked a hall within the Museum for a Chinese New Year get-together. Rit tells me that Moses is also playing. Moses is a terrific erhu player, we were both in Temasek, who wants to become a conductor and had gone to Russia to study for a short while. There are two other musicians whom I’m meeting for the first time: Samuel, the violinist, currently at the SAF Music and Drama Company, about to be discharged soon, and Xueqi, a pipa player from NAFA.
Okay, I’ve forgotten to mention that I’m playing keyboards.
Rit explains what my job is, after I ask him what songs we are to play that evening. ‘Just continue playing, try not to stop.’ In other words, I have to try to string all the songs we are playing into a medley.
‘But how do I know when to change songs, and in what key?’
‘It’s okay, I will tell you.’
This time I am terribly nervous about the gig, because here we have five musicians who are going to play together without rehearsal and… how on earth am I to inform the rest that we’re going to transit into another song?
Rit lets us know which songs we ought to begin with, and then he’d do his solo while we can rest – and I can think about what song we should do thereafter.
So we go on stage. The first number is Over the Rainbow. My fellow musicians are great improvisers – they provide the counterpoint on the fly and seem to understand telepathically when they should take the lead melody.
On the fly: yes, that’s the word.
As we’re about to finish with Over the Rainbow, Rit whispers to me, ‘The Moon Represents My Heart.’
I nod. We finish playing. I begin the introduction for the next song.
Rit: ‘In D,’
Stunned for the moment. I am playing a C-major chord. Without thinking I simply hit a D-major chord and replayed the introduction.
For those who are not sure about what I am saying, when you transit between chords – i.e. a few notes put together and sounded simultaneously – you can either produce a smooth, or jarring, passage. Certain chords have relations, so that when you place these chords in a certain combination or a certain passage, the whole package sounds good.
Having said so, a leap from C-major to D-major chord, so suddenly and brashly and without any transitory harmony in-between, that can be pretty ugly.
After that my fellow musicians were guffawing away in good cheer: ‘Wah, best, you just leap from C to D!’
At the end of the first set (we have to play two set that evening), we’re really – as Hokkiens use it – hooting. ‘Hoot’ means ‘whack’ – we have no plans, no scores, no prior agreement. Just you-look-at-me-I-look-at-you; somebody initiates something and the rest play along; me playing 1, 6, 4, 5 (chords in a scale) while struggling to decide what song to play next; me playing 1, 6, 4, 5 again and Rit telling me what song to do next and in what key. Transit, transit, and off we go.
The second set is much better, because we compile a list of repertoire during our break, based on the consensus that at least two people (including myself, since I am providing the meat of the pillars) know how to play it. We’re under some pressure to include a Korean song as apparently there’s a Korean guest with us tonight. We have troubles because one of us knows a particular number, but the others might not know. Moses suggests playing the theme song from ‘Jewel in the Palace’, but I do not know how to play that. Nevertheless, playing improves because we’ve finally had a chance to rehearse, albeit during the first set of the gig. At the same time, according to Moses, there are less people in the audience, so we’re less aware of ourselves.
At the end of a day, it’s a great experience: five people coming together in an immediate meeting of minds under pressure. There’s a sense of adrenaline compared to gigging alone; you have to be alert all the time.
Speaking of which, Southeast Asian musicians do that! Go watch the fiery exchange of musicians in Hom Rong ‘The Overture’, I have the link posted on an earlier date (apologies, because I do not write my posts in order. However, I post them according to the dates that they occur).
